


No Chance

by darthenna



Series: Chelsea-Liverpool Challenge [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Chelsea FC, Liverpool F.C., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1913868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthenna/pseuds/darthenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stevie comes to Fernando after Liverpool's loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the match Liverpool-Chelsea in April, where the Reds lost 2-0, losing also the chances to become champions.  
> Doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the first part.
> 
> I don't like it in particular, but decided to post it anyway.

If Fernando is surprised to see Stevie waiting for him in front of his house in London after the match, he doesn't let it show. 

"You're quick," he just says. 

Stevie smiles. "I arrived just fifteen minutes ago," he answers, "Are you going to open the door?" 

Fernando doesn't move. "Why are you here, Stevie?" he asks. 

Stevie shifts on his feet. Fernando keeps looking at him, waiting for an answer. Stevie sighs. "You didn't score," he says. 

Fernando's gaze darkens, though he doesn't move a muscle. "I know," he says coldly. 

"But you could have," Stevie goes on, "Why didn't you?" 

"Willian was in a better position." 

"Just because of it?" 

"Yes," Fernando says, "Just because of it. I'm not selfish or greedy despite what you or your teammates might think." 

"I don't think you're selfish," Stevie says quietly. 

Fernando smiles bitterly. "I don't care anymore." 

"You cared enough not to score." 

Fernando laughs. "You think I didn't score because of you?" 

"Because it didn't feel right to score against us." 

"Willain. Was. In a better. Position." 

"Keep telling yourself that." 

Fernando leans on the door and passes his hand over his almost non-existent hair. "Why are you here, Stevie?" he repeats. 

"Wanted to see you," Stevie says. 

"You saw me today." 

Stevie looks around. "Maybe we'd better go in? I don't want anyone to overhear us." 

Without another word Fernando takes out the key and opens the door. He goes in and Stevie follows him gingerly. He suddenly notices how tired Fernando looks - his shoulders are slumped, his steps are without the usual spring, his forehead is wrinkled slightly. His own tiredness hits him unexpectedly. He's tired of everything - of responsibility, of seeing his dreams crushed every time, of missing Fernando. He's gotten old, they've both gotten old, the age difference between them now isn't as palpable as it was when Fernando first arrived in Liverpool. 

"Stevie, why are you here?" 

It's the third time Fernando asks the question, but now his voice is low, tired, sad. It disarms Stevie and he closes his eyes, whispering. "I missed you." 

Fernando looks at him with wide and desperate eyes and for a second he's that kid from all those years ago again. Then his look hardens and Stevie is back to today. 

"Why are you doing this, Stevie?" Fernando asks with barely restrained anger, "Why are you bringing up the past? Why can't you just leave me be?" 

His breath hitches at the last word and he clenches his fists, closing his eyes momentarily to get his mask back. 

He's visibly startled when opening his eyes he finds Stevie much closer than he was. To his credit he doesn't flinch or step back. He just looks into Stevie's eyes. The older man brings a trembling hand to his cheek, his fingers longing to touch the skin, but not quite daring. 

The silence is overwhelming, they're not even breathing, just staring into each others' eyes, unable to look away. Stevie gathers all his courage and cups Fernando's face gently. He suddenly remembers the very first time he did it. Then Fernando looked almost frightened, he froze and stared at Stevie with round eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. 

But now, as soon as Stevie's fingers touch his skin, Fernando grips his wrist and lowers it still looking into his eyes. 

"Leave," he says coldly. 

"I just wanted..." 

"I know what you wanted," Fernando interrupts, "I just don't know why. Why now, Stevie? You barely acknowledged me all these years and now you suddenly appear on my doorstep and want me to pretend that nothing has changed?" 

"I acknowledged you just fine," Stevie mutters, "What did you expect? That I would be all lovey-dovey with-with..." 

"A traitor," Fernando supplies. 

Stevie shots him a glare. "With someone who broke my heart," he says. 

"How many times do I have to apologize for something I don't need to apologize for?" Fernando says, "I'm sorry I broke you heart, you know it wasn't my intention. I'd never want to hurt you." 

"Wanted or not, you still did it," Stevie says bitterly. 

"It doesn't explain why you're here," Fernando says in a low, but angry voice. 

Stevie takes a deep breath. This conversation wasn't supposed to go this way. He didn't want to argue with Fernando, didn't want to open old wounds. He just wanted... He doesn't even know what he wanted. 

"I'm sorry, Nando," he whispers. 

"What do you want from me, Stevie?" Fernando says tiredly. 

"You-you didn't score... though you could," Stevie murmurs, "And I thought maybe you... didn't want to score against us. I thought maybe you still feel something for the club... for me. I miss you. I missed you all the time, since the moment you left. And especially tonight, when we lost our chance again... I just had to see you, to touch you... to kiss you. I had to give us another chance. I thought you haven't forgotten me yet." 

He looks at Fernando hopefully, but the striker's expression hasn't changed after his confession. He's looking at him impassively, indifferently and Stevie's heart sinks. 

"Guess I was wrong," he whispers turning back to the door. 

What was he thinking coming here and waiting for Fernando by the door like a bloody teenager? He's never been this sentimental, it's probably the loss getting to him. 

His line of thoughts is rudely interrupted by Fernando's hand on his shoulder spinning him back and then shoving him to the wall. Stevie doesn't have time to yell at him for that, when Fernando roughly clashes his mouth on the Scouser's and starts kissing him hungrily. He grips the older man's hair tugging at it and keeps biting on his lips. Stevie doesn't remember the last time he's been kissed this fiercely. It's passionate, but also bitter and Stevie finds himself choking not just because of lack of oxygen. 

"The past is gone, Stevie," Fernando says hoarsely, "We've both changed. There is no chance for us anymore. We're just going to hurt ourselves over and over again." He lets go of Stevie's hair and lets his fingers linger on his cheek for a few seconds. "Leave now," he says, cold and distant again. 

Stevie hates that Fernando seems so undisturbed, when he's barely holding back tears. He hates that Fernando's able to control himself this well, hates that Fernando's forgotten him, while he hasn't been able to. 

He nods curtly and hurries out, but as soon as the door closes after him, his legs give in and he slumps down on the ground in front of Fernando's door and puts his head on his knees, letting fall the tears for the past which is gone forever. 

Little does he know that behind the door Fernando, the cold and indifferent Fernando, so different from the one he knew, is sitting in the same position with his hands in his hair and is crying silent and bitter tears for the love which never went away.


End file.
